Fall by Autumn Archer
18
What a disaster.
How could I lose track of time? It's not my fault I stumbled upon a cave or that the shade replicated nightfall. I’d been lost in my thoughts for hours instead of moments. After Laoch disappeared, I gazed up at the rock formation, wishing I could run tests and take samples.
I’m chasing the sunrise to meet Sal at the helipad, hurtling through the rainforest with a single wish chanting on repeat. A chance to depart this land and find a happiness that doesn’t involve turbulent emotions and shattered dreams.
Intense humidity heats the break of morning. Trickles of sweat slide down my spine. The detour I’d taken makes it difficult to find the trail, but I keep on going. My pulse races with panic. I have no doubt Sal is worried and will ask the pilot to wait for me. He knows I won’t betray his trust. Either way, I need to reach the Oasis, board that helicopter and leave all this behind me.
I wish I could see the sky through the overhead canopy and feel the sunshine on my skin. Sinister leafy shadows play tricks with my mind, leading me one way instead of the other.
Eventually, the medley of trees divide, and my dirty boots land on a track. My hurried pace eats up the mushy earth. The contents of my backpack jiggle with every hop and a skip. This is the right path. I know it.
A few moments later, I get the distinct feeling I’m not alone. Nerves skitter inside my chest. I try to ignore the burst of fear and tell myself it’s only nosey animals, until the outline of a man bounces into view, and I’m halted by the never-ending barrel of a rifle.
“Don’t move.” An ebony faced man wearing head to toe obsidian clothes fixes his aim at my heaving chest. “Put your hands on your head,” he orders with a native accent.
“Wait.” I do as he instructs. “I’m trying to find the Oasis. Salvador is expecting me.”
“Who are you?” he asks sharply.
Good question. Who am I? Am I still Iris Kitson, the ecologist, or the evolved beija flor with a multi-faceted character enriched by Dante Valez. My hesitation earns a prod of unforgiving steel to my spine from behind. I’m quickly circled by a team of men. “I was staying at the Oasis with el Fantasma, and now I’m getting ready to leave.”
“El Fantasma?” The man aiming a gun to my chest scowls. “I find that hard to believe. You're nowhere near the Oasis.”
“I went for a walk.” My answer sounds unbelievable as it rushes out.
The men converse in a foreign language, and the guy opposite me nods. “Move,” he orders. “You’re coming with us.”
A shiver of uneasiness runs riot over my clammy skin. I can’t be sure these guys are on Dante’s payroll or what they plan to do with me. “I'd rather carry on this track. I’ve got somewhere to be in a hurry. Salvador is waiting for me.”
They ignore my protest. I’m pushed forward by the gun between my shoulder blades. “Keep walking.”
I trip over a chunky root and almost topple. A hostile hand wraps my bicep and steadies me. Twisting around, I meet small blue eyes and a stern expression. “Talk to Luiz. He knows who I am,” I say in a flurry, unable to shirk off his firm grip. “He’ll tell you I’m a guest at the Oasis.”
“Walk,” he repeats, manhandling me further into the buzzing jungle.
“Are you taking me to the Oasis?” The man doesn’t reply. He continues to stalk beside me even though I strain to free my arm. “Where are we going?” I demand.
“You’re trespassing. I have the order to shoot and kill. So be quiet,” he says close to my ear.
Beyond us, scattered palms laden with coconuts hide men primed like snipers, armed for war. They all face a dilapidated shack surrounded by bushes. The random shelter snuggled amidst lush bushes is basic and poorly erected. Archaic and ready to implode.
The strategically positioned sharpshooters don’t flinch as I’m guided past them one by one and shoved to my knees.
“Keep your hands on your head. No sudden movements, or I’ll shoot you. Understand?”
I nod, pressing my palms onto the crown of my head as I kneel. Trees soar skyward, their foliage layering over the sky. The men chat amongst themselves with words I can’t decipher. It turns heated with biting words and flared nostrils. A crackle from a radio brings more Portuguese. Quickly followed by a gun aimed at my temple.
“Tell me why you’re here.”
“I told you. I've been with el Fantasma these past few weeks.” How long has it been? I’ve lost count of the hours, days and weeks.
“We’ve checked. That guest left at sunrise.”
My brows fly up. “No! Not yet. Ask Sal, he’s waiting for me at the helipad.”
“There’s no helicopter waiting for you.”
What?“I swear I’m telling you the truth. Speak to el Fantasma. Ask him yourself. He’ll confirm my identity.”
He glances behind me and mutters to another guy who responds immediately. “He gave the order not to be disturbed.”
“Wait… Is he here?” My head almost does a one-eighty to search for him.
“You’re asking too many questions.”
“If he’s here, let me see him.” I frantically push up, trying to stand.
“Stay on your knees.”
“Let. Me. Speak to him,” I punch out the demand again.
Force knocks the wind from my lungs when I’m hurled forward. Vicious hands jostle me to the mud, slamming my chest down hard. The cap falls off my head when I wrestle and kick.
“Keep her restrained. I’ll report to el Fantasma when he comes out of the hut.”
He’s inside the shack. Close by. My heartbeats treble in speed. I scream. I yell so loudly that his name stings my throat. “El Fantasma!”
“Sssh! He’ll kill you.” The guy pinning me down slaps a hand over my mouth. “He’s busy right now. Not even a pretty foreign girl will distract him.”
A second later, a deep sonorous rumble carries my name. “Iris?” I strain my neck in vain to see. He’s directly behind me. “What the hell is happening here? Christ, get the fuck off her, before I shoot you myself.” His voice rasps with a strict edginess, jagged and cold. “Don’t ever put your hands on her again. Understood?”
The weight holding me prisoner dissipates. “Sorry, sir. We found her not too far from here. She said she’s a guest at the Oasis and you know each other.”
When I jump up to my feet and swivel around, Dante jolts as our gazes snag. He stands over me, surrounded by the jungle with a glint of sunlight kissing his ferocity. Our eyes roam over each other. Mine plead for touch and scream for a happy ending, mutely understanding the consequences of our misfortune. His silently signal a longing, and then it fizzles out like the flame of a match overpowered by the wind.
“I know her.” He sighs heavily, switching from shocked to hot-tempered. Furious green eyes darken like a bleak winter. Held under his sudden predatory glare, my stomach heaves like he’s yanked it from my throat. His hair is tousled and a sweat gleamed abdomen contracts so the muscles brace and protrude. Skinned knuckles and bare hands fist as he slows his breath.
It’s then when I realize he’s not wearing a disguise. He’s in the open without gloves or sunglasses.
The terrifying snarl echoing in my ears obliterates the fascination of our unfortunate attraction. This warrior with blood-stained streaks looks like Dante. Hair drapes his forehead like Dante. His restraint mimics Dante. But this man before me is definitely not Dante. Not anymore.
“Listen up,” he calls out to the onlookers. “This woman is under your protection now. Guard her with your life. Touch her, and I’ll kill every single one of you. Now get her the fuck out of here. Escort her off my land and make sure she boards an aircraft this time.” He pauses, fixing a serious stare to my face. “Don’t come back, Iris.”
I’ve seen him tormented and wild, supreme and majestic, but the strain tightening his expression is so very different. Vibrations emanate from him like a monster whose only survival is the destruction of others.
I swallow hard, aware I have his sole attention and unsure if I want it. His fierce stare burns holes in my tingly flesh. He’s oblivious to the men flanking us with weapons. We’re locked in a standoff. Just me and him. The merciless el Fantasma.
I chose silence rather than wilting at his dominance. Until his teeth bare and I fear I’ve amputated his thinning patience. “Why the hell are you out here anyway?” he says with a callous splutter. “I made it clear. You were to leave and never come back.”
“Laoch. He was ready to go home before sunrise.” I gasp for air when he widens his stance. “I was rushing back to meet Sal. I promised him I’d be at the helipad, but I...”
“He should’ve escorted you there himself. I left him in charge. I gave him a simple instruction to get you out of the Oasis.” He rakes back disheveled strands with one hand. Golden skin shimmers with the movement. A lustrous gleam of sunshine peeks in from the heavens making him utterly god-like.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I was distracted.” My foolish heart skips when he licks his lips.
We’ve danced around tempestuous emotions since the first time we met. Even now, he’s still refusing to admit there’s a cosmic energy sparking between us. It's chemical. High voltage. Kinetic. Unbearable. This time it sizzles through the atmosphere with a blistering bond.
A blaze of anxiety clouds his eyes. It softens his posture, and then in a blink, his spine locks like my presence curdles his blood.
“Iris… you need to go home.” He swallows hard and glances over his shoulder. “Please. Just go.” The deep snarl from within his chest amplifies the shakes in my hands.
“I will.” I bow my head so messy tendrils tumble over my shoulders like Medusa’s snakes. I’m punished for falling in love with my jailer. Just as he turns away, I ask, “Why didn’t you say goodbye before you left?”
The corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s sparring with the words in his head. “I’ll say goodbye this time.” The question goes unanswered. His gaze darkens. “Goodbye, Iris.”
“Put your weapon down.” A harsh order snaps out from my left.
Dante’s eyes pop wide, and he spins on his heels. Putting his back to me, he blocks my view with his masculine form. He raises his hands calmly. “Stand down.” He gives the order for his men to lower their weapons.
It takes a second for them to obey. And then a beaten-up man gripping a rifle at shoulder height, pointed directly at Dante appears. His cheek is so swollen his eye is scarcely visible. Dark bruising stains swarthy skin, and he winces as his feet shuffle.
I freeze. Fear runs so cold within me that my fingertips go numb like they’re frostbitten. He looks mangled—tortured. It’s sickening to know Dante played a part in the barbaric penance. My stomach clenches against the rise of acid.
“Put the gun down, Miguel, and get back inside.”
Miguel. This isn’t a man to waste with pity. He’s the man who murdered Dante’s little sister. The real monster in all of this. Dante’s enemy, and now mine.
Dante cautiously steps forward, ensuring his entire body is guarding me. The man laughs with a sinister cackle like he’s ready to take on the world and lose. “You sly dog. I thought all this jungle crap meant you were a hermit living off cat shit and tree bark. An ugly nobody who jerks off with his own fucked up palm every night.”
“Get back in the hut, Miguel. We have unfinished business.”
“I’ll take my chances with the jungle.”
“One more step, and my snipers will take aim. If you even make it that far. That’s a promise.”
“I’m the one holding a rifle to your head, asshole. I should have popped a cap in your brain after I took out Gabriela.” Miguel blinks wildly as sweat rolls into his open eye. “I actually liked the girl. She was a hot ride. Probably the best of my life.”
“Shut up!” Dante’s voice breaks under anger.
“You won’t kill me. Not when the little redhead is here.” He tips sideways to catch my eyes. “It’s funny how history repeats itself. You, me, a beautiful woman and a few rounds. I could shoot your whore first.”
Dante prowls closer with his muscles flexed and fists twitching. “I will kill you. Do not look at her, speak to her or even think about her. Now get back inside the hut before I really lose my patience. You won’t get within an inch of that woman, so stop wasting everyone’s time and… MOVE.”
Miguel shakes his head so the damp hairs on his head flick back and forth. “I’m the one holding the weapon. You’re unarmed, and your men have stood down. All it takes is a squeeze of the trigger. Just like before.” Miguel’s nostrils flare dangerously. “You actually care about the whore, don’t you? Now, that’s hilarious.” As he slides the barrel of his rifle to the right, teasing his aim at me, Dante bounces with it. “Is she your weakness? Something I can use to barter for freedom?”
“No one leaves here alive unless I say so,” Dante hisses. “And I’ll never agree to it.”
I’m losing my mind. I wish a thunderstorm would rip open the sky and wash this hideous man into the river. But of course, I don’t have the privilege to grant those wishes. All I can do is stand by and watch it unfold as Dante remains in the line of fire.
He subtly angles his physique, strategically guiding himself and Miguel’s aim away from me. Within a few strides, he’s pivoted and engaged in a war of dare.
My skin heats, and everything tells me this is it. Dante’s life hangs in the balance of a murderer with no ethics. His harsh voice sinks into me, and I quickly realize I want more than laboratories and experiments. I want this man alive. Not injured. Not dead.
We deserve a proper farewell. A final moment together, just the two of us. With feelings and hope for something different than the lives we’re living now.
I carefully inch the backpack from my shoulders and lower it to the ferns at my feet. Swiftly hunkering to my knees, I tug the zipper slowly trying not to make a noise. I know how this world works, not the world I grew up in––the world Dante created.
“Who wanted my list?” Dante demands, hedging closer to the opening of darkness. “Who gave you the order?” His men move in around him.
Miguel sways. “Maria said…” He stamps his foot, his movement a little haphazard. “What the hell have you done to me? That wasn’t coconut water, you bastard.”
The wave of confusion contorting his face seems to please Dante. “Nope, and I think you had a bit too much. Greedy cunt.”
I smile inwardly, knowing the sensation of his serum all too well. The swirl of truths that belong hidden inside your mind are coaxed to the surface with ease and abandon.
Now that I’m a good foot of distance away from the standoff, I take it all in. Rattled at the fact Dante isn’t the least bit concerned how Miguel could shoot a hole in him. How he’s calmer now they are facing a different direction. What I don’t understand is why his armed men haven’t taken Miguel out already. What are they waiting for?
I should be grateful he moved the threat. I’m not. He’s the one at risk now. Dante is in danger, and I can’t watch his suicide mission without doing something. A diversion at least could spare him seconds to dive for cover.
“What did Maria want with my list? Was she planning to sell it for money?”
“No,” Miguel answers through gritted teeth. “You’ve actually poisoned me?” he continues with a crack of indignation hitching his voice. “I swear this to you, Dante Valez. You will fucking die. If not by me, then by the men you go after next. You’re not a ghost anymore.”
Rummaging blindly inside the bag, my fingertips run across the pointed blade I tossed in earlier. I duck into the shadows of a fern and quickly secure the knife in the sock lining my shin. The handle digs into my flesh, snug to my lower leg. Adrenaline numbs my senses, so I’m running on pumping blood and a savage snarl of protection.
With the two men occupied in a back-and-forth dispute, I crawl on hands and knees through the undergrowth, closing in on Miguel, who has his back to me.
A branch snaps from behind. My head whips around to the sniper propped against a palm tree. His brow scrunches, and he mouths the words ‘stay back’. I ignore his silent warning and wait. If there’s an opportunity to distract Miguel, I’ll use it.
“You drank a truth serum.” Dante folds his arms over his bare chest.
Miguel coughs into his shoulder, and for a second, I think he might vomit. “Yeah, yeah.” He sneers, staggering to balance himself. “You think I’ll believe that mumbo jumbo bullshit.”
“Let’s go into the hut and talk about it. I bet you’re too warm out here. You’re not used to this climate, right? It’s cooler in the shade. You’re sweating like a pig.” Dante’s swings his head around to where I was standing before. I watch how his lungs implode and his eyes dart from sapling to tree. When he doesn’t find me, he exhales in a gust of relief. “You owe me answers.”
“I’m not going back in that dark hole,” he snorts nastily. “Looks like your whore has run off.”
“Call her a whore once more and I’ll slice your mouth from ear to ear.” Dante’s fists strain to stay by his thighs.
“I bet the whore closes her eyes when you touch her with those fucked up fingers.” Dante shifts in his boots. His lips tighten to a firm line as if he’s biting his tongue. “I asked you a question, Valez. Do you have a thing for dirty whores?”
A forest of fire scorches from his gaze, his torso ripples from constraint. “Once more,” he warns, baring his teeth. “Call her that again and I’ll fucking strangle the truth out of you.” Dante moves closer so the target on his chest nudges into the rifle. “She means more to me than you’ll ever understand. Men like you don’t feel. You just fuck. You’re incapable of cutting out your own heart to save something rare.”
Shock overrides the danger I’m in. He admitted it. Right there under the see-sawing palms. An ugly temper evolves inside my chest. Circumstances have forced him to fight our connection and keep me at arms-length because of this man. The homicidal man jabbing the promise of death into Dante’s ribs. Our days are numbered, each and every one. So I may as well live them to the fullest and prove my eternal loyalty to this man.
“You like whores now that you’re a wild animal. Oh how far the good-looking Dante has fallen. Your sister wouldn’t approve.”
With a brutal snarl, Dante snatches the thin barrel with a ruthless grip. “Tell me why Maria wanted the list before I finish this once and for all.”
“She’s not… Damn… I’m not telling...” Miguel does his best to fight the swirl of serum bending his mind to free the truth. He cocks the rifle, ready for attack.
Dante’s voice takes a serene tone like the fluffiest clouds passing over a clear blue sky. “Want to know a secret? I’ll never put the woman I love in danger again.” He chuckles with a sinister rasp. “You can’t kill me if there’s no...”
At that exact moment, I bounce to my boots with a surge of primal energy. Without thought for my safety or a fleeting glimpse into the future, I plunge the blade into Miguel's shoulder from behind. His torso jolts, and he swivels. Startled pupils flare, snagging with my own.
“Puta!” His pitch screeches to the treetops. The rifle jabs into my belly, and the sound of gunshot soars.
I suck in a breath, dazed and shocked at a hole the size of a copper coin in Miguel’s sweat drenched forehead. His life zapped body sinks to the decomposing earth beneath our feet.
“Iris…” Dante lurches forward, wide eyes frantically trailing my torso. His lungs freeze as he visually searches every inch of me. Stormy green darkens as his assessing gaze leaves me and lands on the corpse. “You’re okay. Fuck… What have you done?” He slams his palms to his head and drops to his knees.
“I… I thought he was going to kill you… I… wanted to distract him,” I stammer in confusion.
Hands scrape the look of pure horror on his face. “YOU’VE RUINED EVERYTHING!” he yells like the god of war who’s fallen on his sword.
My hands tremble, and I bite my lower lip, staring down at the motionless body of a stranger soaked in blood. I stabbed him close to his neck and could have easily taken his life—for Dante. Guilt twists my gut into ruthless knots. My mind spins in the aftermath, and my throat closes, choking me in the gallant gesture.
It wasn’t a romantic act to win over his heart. It was stupidity masked as bravery. Instead of taking the man's attention away from Dante, I got him killed. The sniper who warned me to stay back shot him dead the exact second the gun turned on me.
For the first time since I landed in the Amazon, my heart splits into a trillion irreparable shards. Liquid confusion boils with hot regret. Tears spill down my cheeks in the turmoil around us. I desperately want to erase the image of Dante’s shocked expression. How he rises with an unreadable, hard gaze fixed to the scene of death.
An air of destruction crackles when he sucks in the humidity and drags both hands through his hair at the same time.
With a quick count of his team, a callous expression hunts me. His eyes narrow, his nostrils flare. My heart pounds so hard that I almost vomit. There’s only a yard of distance separating us. Not enough to lessen the pull of his proximity or protect me from the rush of adrenaline charging to his clenched fists.
The courage I’d mustered to attack the enemy withers under his impenetrable glower. I want to believe he will forgive me, or understand why I did it at least. Only, his jaw works, and his eyes turn to ice.
We stare at each other with the backdrop of omnipresent trees and a harmonious shrill of birdsong. My knees threaten to buckle under the whoosh of a galloping pulse. It slams loudly in my skull with a warning of a regrettable fate.
He doesn’t smile or offer gratitude. Instead, he silently watches my suffering, using distance as a buffer.
I want this man, yet, right now, I’m terrified of him.
Frozen under his judgement.
Apprehensive of el Fantasma’s wrath.
So I steady my quaking knees, preparing to do the only thing I can.
